The forest gave way to a narrow road, its cracked asphalt barely visible in the dim light. Caleb adjusted his pack, glancing around at the empty stretch of highway.

“Where exactly are we heading?” Caleb asked.

“Greyford,” Evelyn replied.

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Greyford? Isn’t that a little… public?”

“It’s also the only place within fifty miles with supplies and a safe house,” Evelyn said.

“Safe house?” Carter repeated, smirking. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

Evelyn ignored him, her focus locked on the faint glow of the city lights in the distance.

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Greyford wasn’t much of a city. It was a sprawling industrial town, its skyline dominated by smokestacks and decaying factories. The streets were quiet at this hour, the faint hum of distant traffic blending with the occasional bark of a stray dog.

Caleb glanced around as they entered the outskirts, his grip tightening on his gun. “So, what’s the plan here?”

“Lay low, restock, and figure out our next move,” Evelyn said simply.

“And how exactly do we lay low with the Keepers breathing down our necks?” Caleb asked.

Evelyn didn’t answer. She led them down a narrow side street, her movements quick and deliberate.

The safe house was a small apartment tucked above a pawn shop, its peeling paint and flickering neon sign giving it an air of abandonment. Evelyn unlocked the door, her movements practiced and efficient.

Inside, the apartment was sparse but functional. A small table sat in the corner, a few mismatched chairs scattered around it. The windows were reinforced with steel bars, and the faint smell of mildew hung in the air.

“Charming,” Carter said, glancing around.

“It’s secure,” Evelyn replied curtly.

Caleb set his bag down, his gaze flicking to the window. “You sure this place is off the radar?”

“As sure as I can be,” Evelyn said.